


A pinch of salt for protection

by martiniglass



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feed the Phantom Thieves 2k17, Found Family, Illness, M/M, Magical Arisato Minato, Magical Narukami Yu, Magical Persona 5 Protagonist, Non-Chronological, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Present Tense, Witchcraft, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2018-12-30 22:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12118653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/martiniglass/pseuds/martiniglass
Summary: Have you ever wondered why Akira Kurusu seemed to take the whole magickal Persona-filled world completely in stride? If you asked him yourself, he would simply say he had two very hands-on, very experienced teachers who really prepared him for the whole magickal saving-the-day adventure thing.They also taught him how to bake a mean batch of butter cookies.A non-chronological telling of how Akira saved the day, saved the boy, and the two past protagonists who taught him how to do it. Now with more jars.(Ch. 8 is not a real update. Please read for more information)





	1. A New Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Have you ever had an idea that you knew was weird but you simply had to write it anyway? Yeah, that's what this is. This is entirely centered around this weird idea I had about adding witchcraft to the Persona world. Let's see how it goes. :D I'm basing all of these chapters around the 52 short story ideas every 52 weeks but I'm not following those rules too strictly. Please, as always, constructive criticism is extremely welcomed, especially since I'm experimenting with present tense for the first time. Updates will be every Sunday and Thursday.
> 
> Spoilers for the majority of the Persona games and again, as always, please enjoy!

He’s eating breakfast at the kitchen table, doing his very best to keep the crumbs from his toast from hitting the floor, when he overhears his parents talking about them over the kitchen sink. The both of them are getting ready for work, a place that they are always going to and a place that Akira can’t help but hate. He keeps his thoughts to himself, however, as he watches his parents argue.

“They’ve just move in,” his father says as he fills his travel mug with his morning coffee. “And they’re most likely still exhausted. Give them a few days before you bombard them with dinner invites.”

“But it would rude to wait and it’s important to appear welcoming,” his mother argues as she sets the last dish onto the drying rack. Both her and his father had already eaten breakfast by the time Akira had even woken up. Thankfully, Akira has known how to make toast since he was little. Now that he’s seven, he can practically take care of himself without them.

“If they’re so exhausted, then they would love a chance to enjoy a home-cooked meal without having to cook it themselves,” his mother continues to say, turning from the sink to grab at her purse, rummaging through it with a small frown. “So I’ll make some arrangements and we’ll both get home tomorrow early so we can welcome them to the neighborhood properly.”

Akira watches them silently and takes another bite of his toast. He doesn’t really know who they’re talking about; he doesn’t remember anyone moving into the empty house next door. But he’s not really allowed to play outside after school because his mother hates it when he dirties his clothes so he guesses they could have moved in while he was doing his homework. He watches as his mother sets her purse snug around her shoulder and reaches for his father’s briefcase, which is resting on the table.

His father sighs and turns from the sink as well, travel mug in hand. “I’ll inform my boss,” he says before he leans over and gives his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. “Just make sure that you remember to invite them.”

His mother gives his father a glare as she hands him his briefcase. “Just make sure that you remember to come home on time,” she says and then they’re both out the door, leaving behind the mixed scent of the coffee from the coffee maker and his mother’s work perfume.

Akira watches them leave, nibbling on the ends his toast as the front door closes shut. Now that they’re gone, he can swing his legs back and front under the table without his mother scolding him. He glances at the clock. It’s Sunday so his babysitter won’t be coming over to take him to school and his parents won’t be back until he goes to bed. The silence of the empty house has stopped being scary long ago so instead of wishing that his parents would come back, like he used to do when he was little, he simply finishes his toast and brings his dirty plate to the sink to wash.

With the house to himself, he can go out into the backyard and read under the tree. His mother never lets him do that. Rising up on his tiptoes to place the plate on the drying rack, Akira hurries up to his bedroom to grab his latest book. He gives their apparent new neighbors little thought. They’re most likely just the same as his parents; cold, boring, and uninterested in a child. Just like all of the other adults.

* * *

The night his parents have set to host the new neighbors, Akira has more important things to worry about than making sure he looks nice and proper for them. His mother is making strawberry daifuku, something she almost never makes, and he’s wondering if whether or not it’ll be worth the scolding if he asks to have one before dinner. He’s wearing a freshly pressed white dress shirt, which makes him kind of nervous because he knows he’s not suppose to mess it up or spill food on it, and he’s plucking at the hem of his shirt when their doorbell rings.

His mother hurries towards the front door, his father following her at a more sedated pace, to welcome the new neighbors and Akira stays in the living room, knowing that he’d just get in the way if he tried to join them. He’s too busy pulling at his shirt to really care about joining them anyways.

“Akira,” his mother’s voice says, sounding exasperated. “Don’t pull at your shirt. Remember your manners and come say hello.”

Akira forces his hands away from his shirt and turns towards the front entrance, ready to pretend to be interested in order to placate his parents, when he pauses. The two men standing next to his parents are young, more like his babysitter’s age rather than old adults. The taller of the two, and he’s even taller than his father, has grey hair despite not being old and he has a bright smile on his face. He gives Akira a tiny wave and Akira can see that there are a bunch of tiny scars all over his hand.

The smaller of the two, to Akira’s surprise, has long blue hair tied up into a bun. Blue hair! He’s also smiling at Akira but his smile is smaller, more tired. He looks like he could use a nice nap. The both of them are dressed nice, though not as formal as his parents or himself. It makes them look a lot less… scary.

“Nice to meet you, Akira-kun,” the grey haired man says and suddenly, Akira feels horribly shy. He feels his face warm up as he blushes and he looks down at his feet. He wasn’t expecting them to actually talk to him.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” he says quietly, bowing low just like his father had taught him. But as he bows, he realized that he doesn’t know either of their names and he can’t finish giving them a proper hello. “U-Umm…”

Before either of his parents can scold him for not waiting to hear their names, however, the blue haired man chuckles and the sound reminds Akira of the wind chimes he always hears as he walks home from school. The blue haired man walks into the living room and bends down to one knee as the grey haired man recaptures his parents attention by asking them about their jobs.

The blue haired man gives Akira another soft smile and he holds out his hand. “My name is Minato Arisato,” he says and Akira can’t help but relax as he speaks. “And his name is Yu Narukami.”

Akira reaches out to take the offered hand and he jolts slightly when he does; the man’s hand is really cold. But his hand is also soft and doesn’t crush Akira’s hand like some of his parents other adult friends, so he smiles back and gives his new neighbor’s hand a shake.

Arisato-san’s smile grows wider. “It’s very nice to meet you, Akira-kun,” he says.


	2. Bedtime Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little early but I have a super long chair event at work tomorrow so it's best I post this now. The 52 stories in 52 weeks prompts are all fun and good but... would you guys be interested in sending some prompts to me too? If that's something you'd like, let me know! This is just a little back story for our two past protags before we get into the meat of things. As always, constructive criticism is extremely welcomed. Enjoy!

_Sometimes, when Akira's parents stay even later at their jobs and Yu feels uncomfortable sending him home to that big, empty house all alone, he stays the night in their guest room. It happens often enough that Akira has a permanent set of clothes in the closet and the fridge always has his favorite juice ready and waiting for him. And when Akira spends the night, after helping Yu with dinner and after playing video games with Minato, they'll both tuck him into bed and tell him his favorite bedtime story._

Once upon a time, there was a lonely boy. This lonely boy had no friends to call his own, simply because he moved too often to keep them. Despite this, he would constantly wish for a friend. He didn’t want to be lonely anymore.

_"That boy was you, wasn't it Narukami-san?"_

_"That's right. Now get back under the covers. Remember, we're trying to get you to sleep."_

_"Trying being the key word."_

One day, while visiting his grandmother, he discovered that she was a witch. At first, this made the lonely boy nervous because he was always told that witches were bad and liked to eat up little boys and girls. But his fears were soon put to rest when he discovered that not only were those stories not true, but that his grandmother was a good witch and she was going to help him find a friend.

She gave him a special necklace with the brightest, shiniest blue stone he'd ever seen dangling from the chain. She told him that it would help him find a friend, the best friend he would ever have, through his dreams. So that night, right before the lonely boy went to bed, he placed the necklace underneath his pillow and fell asleep. He honestly never thought that it would work. But when he opened his eyes, he wasn't in his room anymore. He was in a room made of all blue walls and he could hear the sound of a woman singing a beautiful song. And there, waiting for him, was a boy not too older than the lonely boy himself, with short blue hair and bright blue eyes.

_"And that was you, Arisato-san!"_

_"Yep, that was me."_

_"What did Narukami-san look like when he was little?"_

_"...He was cute. But you're cuter."_

_"I would argue but he's right, you are pretty adorable."_

The lonely boy was nervous and afraid to talk to the blue-eyed boy at first. He’d never had a friend before and he was worried that he’d say something stupid. But the blue-eyed boy told him that he had no reason to worry. That first night, the blue-eyed boy eased all of the lonely boy’s fears and so, the lonely boy and the blue-eyed boy became the closest of friends. Every night in his dreams he would visit the blue-eyed boy in the blue room, where they would talk and the blue-eyed boy would teach the lonely boy how to be a witch himself. He told the lonely boy about the moon and showed him spells to cast underneath it. He told him of the adventures he and his friends were having in the waking world. This continued on for many nights and, for the first time in a long time, the lonely boy wasn’t lonely anymore.

One night, after many nights of laughter and lessons, the blue-eyed boy told the lonely boy to sleep without his special necklace for a few nights; the blue-eyed boy had to do something very important and the lonely boy needed to stay away. The lonely boy was sad to miss his lessons with his friend but it would only be for a few, short nights and afterwards, the two would continue to share their dreams. So the lonely boy agreed and slept without visiting his friend.

_“But while you were away, Arisato-san got very sick.”_

_“...Yeah. He did.”_

On the third night of their separation, while wondering to himself what the blue-eyed boy was doing, the lonely boy suddenly felt that something was very, very wrong. He knew he needed to get to his friend, that his friend needed him, but it was still daytime. Afraid that something bad was happening to the blue-eyed boy, the lonely boy went into his cupboard and used all of the sleeping potions inside to force himself asleep, holding his special necklace tight in his hands.

Inside his dreams, there was nothing but darkness. The blue room was gone. The woman was no longer singing. And there, in the middle of the darkness, with an invisible wall keeping them apart, was his friend. He wasn’t moving. And the lonely boy feared the worse.

The blue-eyed boy was very sick; he’d taken something bad to keep everyone else, including the lonely boy, safe and had given something very important away. Everyone, the entire world would be saved… but the bad thing he’d taken and the very important piece of himself that was missing were both making him very weak.

The lonely boy tried to help, tried to get to his friend to do something, anything. But it was no use. The invisible wall wouldn’t let him through and he could only watch as his blue-eyed boy fell into a deep, deep sleep, unable to stay awake with that missing piece gone. And then the lonely boy woke up and found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find his blue-eyed boy anymore in his dreams.

_“Narukami-san?”_

_“He’s alright, Akira-kun. He just sometimes forgets that I’m not sleeping anymore. Let’s finish up here so that you can have some dreams of your own, alright? We’ll finish the story the next time you stay over.”_

For many years after that, the lonely boy was sure that his first friend was gone. Doomed to sleep forever. Not a day went by that the blue-eyed boy didn’t cross his mind and, in his sadness, he stopped trying to make anymore friends. It was no use when they would just disappear in the end. And besides, he didn’t want any new friends. He wanted his blue-eyed boy.

Eventually, despite his best intentions, the lonely boy did make new friends. He went on adventures, saved others from the darkness inside themselves, helped his friends save the day just as his blue-eyed boy had done… but no matter how many friends or adventures he had, he would always remember his blue-eyed boy and feel guilty; guilty over not being able to save him.

_“But you did save him and you woke him up ‘cause he’s right here!”_

_“He woke me up all right. He made a lot of people mad and was very silly about it, but yes, Akira-kun. He found me and he saved me. But like I said, that’s for next time.”_

_“J-Just a little more? Please? How did you find out how to save Arisato-san, Narukami-san?”_

_“...Well…”_

But then one day… the no longer lonely young man remembered something. Something very important. He remembered that he had beaten Death before. He’d slipped himself and his new friends right from her grasp. He then wondered to himself…

What was stopping him from doing it again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism and comments are extremely welcomed! Thank you very much!


	3. A beloved poem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've all heard it before and we all probably know it by heart. Open a new tab and listen along if you'd like. Thank you and enjoy!

When Arisato-san’s sickness gets really bad and nothing, not even Narukami-san’s potions, seem to help him, Narukami-san will bring Akira over to the big piano that sits in their living room and teach him how to play.

“This is Minato’s favorite song,” Narukami-san says as he guides Akira’s fingers over the keys. “It’s my favorite too.”

The song that comes out of the piano is very familiar, though Akira can’t imagine why because he’s almost certain that he’s never heard it before. It sounds nice, though. As the song floats through the air, it seems to make everything… darker, though not in a scary way. That’s the only way he can really describe the soft, velvety feeling that comes with the music. Narukami-san continues to guide Akira’s hands, helping him play, and Akira can’t help but hum along. He feels Narukami-san falter for just a moment before he starts to hum alone as well.

The song isn’t very long by itself but it’s very easy to loop so they continue to do just that, looping the song around and around so that it never stops. After a few minutes, Akira can hear soft singing from the couch and he glances over to see Arisato-san sitting up, his blanket pooled around his waist and his hair falling down over his shoulders. He’s singing along too.

And so they all sing. With Narukami-san and Akira at the piano and with Arisato-san at the couch, they let the song flutter about the house, filling every corner with its sweet melody. It’s like a magick all on its own, making everyone in the house feel just a little calmer, just a little safer. And after a long while, when Akira can feel his throat start to hurt from all of the humming and singing, Narukami-san lets the last few notes linger before pulling Akira’s hands away from the piano keys.

“That was very beautiful,” Arisato-san says, his voice soft and Akira agrees wholeheartedly.

He beams and Narukami-san ruffles his hair fondly. It’s only after Arisato-san has fallen back asleep, blankets pulled up to his chin and looking a little better than before, and Narukami-san and Akira are both back in the kitchen, that he asks, “Narukami-san? What’s that song called?”

* * *

There’s a piano hidden in the corner in the Crossroad’s bar. Akira has seen it a few times while working. It’s usually left alone by the bar’s patrons, their attention too focused on their alcohol or Lala-chan but every once and awhile, some drunken mess will go over to it and bash their hands against the keys in an attempt to make music. It always makes him cringe. Thankfully, Lala-chan seems to take pretty good care of it, showing Akira how to clean it up and tune it after work.

“It adds a bit of class to the place,” she tells him as he wipes the keys down. Despite working for however many hours, her makeup is still in perfect order. “And sometimes, someone who actually knows how to play it will have a go at it. Makes keeping it around worth while.”

Akira can’t help but agree with her and when she asks if he can play, he gives his hair a gentle tug and says, “I only know one song but it’s been too long since I’ve played it. I’m probably too rusty.”

He can feel her eyes on him as continues to wipe down the keys but she doesn’t push him, which he’s grateful for. But every night after his shift, after Crossroad closes its doors and it’s only him and Lala-chan, she’ll ask him if he’d like to play. And every night, he politely declines. That song is important, to him and to his mentors. It has a meaning to it that’s too heavy for everyday use. It’s meant for special times and he’ll know when it’s appropriate to play it.

* * *

“I’ll admit, when Sakura-san told me about your many part-time jobs, I was a bit surprised when bartender was on the list,” Akechi says with a smile and Akira shrugs his shoulders, washrag in hand as he wipes down the counter.

It’s well past closing time and Akira knows for a fact that Lala-chan has locked the door already so that no other customers are drawn in. The both of them had been in the process of closing up shop when Akechi had seemed to appear out of thin air at the door, briefcase held tight in his gloved hand and a haunted look on his face. Akira had turned to Lala-chan ready to ask if he could stay just for a few minutes when she’d silenced him with an all-too-knowing look. “Just make sure everything’s locked up when you two leave,” she’d said as she grabbed her purse. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Akira-kun.”

He knows that she didn’t have to do that, didn’t have to give him a few more precious moments with Akechi, but he’s still pathetically grateful nonetheless. He’ll have to get her something nice to show his gratitude, both for her consideration and for trusting him with the bar. He also takes a moment to thank his lucky stars that Morgana is currently staying with Futaba to keep an eye on her. With Medjed still looming over their shoulders, they all need to be at the ready for the moment she wakes back up. Plus, he doesn’t know if the cat would allow him to speak to Akechi so freely if he were here.

From where he’s seated at the counter, Akechi takes another sip of his water. “So if I may ask,” he says, watching as Akira putters behind the bar. “What made you take this job in the first place? You don’t usually find too many high school students working jobs like these.”

Already, just from a few minutes of catching up, Akechi looks much better. The bags around his eyes are still as dark as ever and Akira can still practically taste the poison lurking with him, but the lines around his eyes are softening up minute by minute and he’s no longer clinging to his glass like he’ll blow away if he doesn’t. Akira counts that as a win.

“Lala-chan’s a good friend,” he says, tossing the rag over his shoulders as he inspects the already spotless glasses. If Akechi can tell that he’s simply stalling for time, he doesn’t show it. “And she doesn’t mind me being under-aged. The pay’s decent too so I figured, why not.”

Akechi nods in agreement. “It does have an oddly calming atmosphere after everyone’s left,” he admits as he takes a moment to look around the bar. “Though I’d imagine it can get quite rowdy during hours.”

Akira shrugs again. “Lala-chan is pretty good about keeping everyone in line,” he says. He finally gives up inspecting the perfectly clean glasses and walks around the bar to join Akechi on the other side, leaning against the wood next to where Akechi is sitting. “She makes sure that anyone causing too much of a fuss gets kicked out before anything too crazy happens.”

“That’s good,” Akechi says and the two of them fall into a comfortable silence. Akira wants more than anything to move closer to the teen detective, wants to sooth away the hurts that are so painfully visible, but he knows that he can’t. Not just yet. The darkness lurking underneath Akechi’s skin is something he’s never encountered before and he knows that he needs to be one hundred percent at the ready before he can help the detective overcome it.

But he also doesn't want this night to end. He’s not ready to say goodbye yet. So he opens his mouth to say something, anything to keep their conversation going, when Akechi beats him to the punch.

“Is that a piano?”

He turns to look and yep, Akechi is staring at the piano in the corner. It’s freshly cleaned and tuned, thanks to a particularly zealous patrons’ attempts to play it earlier that night, so it’s all but glowing underneath Crossroad’s neon lights. Akira glances at Akechi.

“Do you play?” he asks and Akechi shakes his head, still not looking away from the piano.

“...No, but I do wish that I could,” he says, softly like it’s a secret. “I’ve never been musically inclined but I do love to listen to it. I’ve just… not heard it in quite awhile.”

Akira watches him for a moment, notices the sadness starting to creep back into his eyes, and he stands from his leaning and walks over to the waiting instrument. He can feel Akechi’s eyes on his back as his sits down, lifting his hands to the piano’s keys. Neither of them say anything as Akira slowly begins to play.

The soft notes bring Akira right back to his mentor’s living room, right back to his childhood. He can almost feel Narukami-san’s hands atop his own as he lets the opening notes linger softly before he starts to play with more purpose. The music drifts through the bar, floating carefully and lovingly through the air. Each note falls perfectly from Akira’s fingers as he closes his eyes, letting the music build. Just like before, the music has a wonderfully soft, velvety feel to it and Akira can’t help but shiver.

He knows that Akechi can feel it too, as the teen detective slowly moves from the bar to stand beside the piano. Akira doesn’t open his eyes however, doesn’t dare take the majority of his attention off of the piano. He loops the song once, twice, not wanting to stop. He thinks to himself, as the music continues to float, that maybe, just maybe, the song will help Akechi just as it always helped Arisato-san. So he continues to play, letting himself get lost in the song. He plays and he hopes that whatever comfort the song gives him will last Akechi through the night.

After three more loops, however, Akira knows that it’s time to stop. Despite how much he wants it, he can’t keep playing forever. Despite wanting to keep him and Akechi here, listening happily to the music, he knows that he has to let the detective go. So he slows each note down, letting them linger just as Narukami-san always did when he was finishing the song up.

The final note falls and Akira slowly brings his hands away from the piano, folding them carefully in his lap. Silence fills the bar. He looks over at Akechi, who’s now leaning against the piano with his hands hanging limp at his sides, head tilting back ever so slightly, his expression finally one of peace. His eyes are closed.

“...That’s the only song I can play,” Akira says softly. The moment feels oddly fragile, like it would shatter if he spoke too loudly. “But it’s my favorite.”

Akechi takes in a deep breath and his body shudders ever so slightly. “...What is it called?” he finally asks, voice just as soft as Akira’s. “The song, I mean.”

Akira smiles and looks down at the piano keys. “The Poem of Everyone’s Souls,” he says. He hears Akechi let out a sharp, barely there gasp and he smiles wider. “It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

Silence. For a brief moment, Akira wonders if maybe he’s done too much, too soon. Then, so quietly that Akira almost misses it, Akechi asks, “Will you… please play it again?” His voice sounds so very small.

Akira feels his heart flip in his chest and he lets out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “Of course,” he says breathlessly. _‘For as long as you want me to.’_ And he begins to play again.


	4. Rosemary, lavender, and thyme

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear GOD this one fought me tooth and nail! But here we go, chapter four. Now remember, this is a non-chronological story so some questions may not be answered for awhile. If this gets a little too complicating, please let me know. And as always, thank you for all your wonderful words and please enjoy. Constructive criticism is always welcomed!

Narukami-san and Arisato-san’s house is amazing. It’s the same size as Akira’s house but his house isn’t nearly as cool. Arisato-san’s office is filled with things like video games and the cool little plushy toys that you find in those crane machines and Narukami-san’s garden is the biggest garden Akira’s ever seen. His mother doesn’t like getting dirty so their backyard has nothing exciting, just a single tree that gets trimmed every year, but Narukami-san has covered his backyard with flowers and vegetables and fruits and herbs. Akira’s parents don’t like clutter, they like everything staying neat and tidy. Narukami-san and Arisato-san like to collect a bunch of different things, magickal and normal alike.

There are candles everywhere, in every room. Even the bathroom! Their crystals and the weird toys they buy from that one T.V show sit proudly on the dozens of shelves that line the living room and Narukami-san is insisting on redoing the extra room where Akira sleeps when he stays the night. They both are adamant on Akira adding his own personal touch to the room and so he gets to pick the new color of the walls once the redecorating begins.

But his most favorite room in the entire house, by far, is the kitchen. At his house, the kitchen isn’t a place Akira has ever felt welcomed in. His parents didn’t like him being in there while his mother is cooking and his father is constantly insisting that cooking is a woman’s hobby. Their kitchen is a dull brown color and has very little interesting in it. But Narukami-san’s kitchen is different; dried herbs hang happily from the top of the stove and there are jars, big and small, filled with everything and more.

Narukami-san’s kitchen is bright and cheery, it’s soft yellow walls always feeling warm and it always smells like the best thing ever. Sometimes it smells sweet from his butter cookies and sometimes it smells really minty from his potions. But the best part about the kitchen? Akira can go in and out as he pleases and, instead of sitting at the table with Arisato-san while Narukami-san cooks, he’s allowed to watch and learn. And there’s nothing more interesting than watching Narukami-san do magick.

“Now we add in the rosemary, lavender, and thyme,” Narukami-san says. He pauses at the stove and his readied pot of water to hold out a jar filled with herbs for him to examine. Standing right next to Narukami-san on the wooden stool for just such occasions, Akira reaches out and takes the jar carefully from his mentor. Inside, the herbs are all mixed together and when he opens the top, he can’t help but shiver as the scent reaches him.

“It smells nice,” he says as he hands the jar back to Narukami-san. “What do they do?”

Narukami-san hums as he pours a generous handful of the mixed herbs into his hand. “Well, the thyme and lavender are going to help with Minato’s nasty headache,” he says, sprinkling the herbs into the boiling water. He gives it a few clockwise stirs and then turns the stove’s burner all the way off. “And the rosemary is for cleansing and purification.”

He eyes the potion for a moment longer and then gives Akira’s hair a ruffle. Arisato-san told him that Narukami-san likes seeing his hair get all fluffy so he bites back an annoyed whine. Narukami-san laughs. “Don’t worry, Akira-kun,” he says as he pulls out the strainer from one of the cupboards. “Minato’s not feeling too good today but after he takes his potion, he’ll start feeling better.”

Akira looks down at the steeping potion and can’t stop the tiny frown growing on his face. He’s never asked Narukami-san about Arisato-san’s sickness; he doesn’t want to be rude or make either of them mad. But he also can’t help but be curious. Arisato-san isn’t sick all of the time but when he is, it’s not like a normal cold or stomach ache. Arisato-san gets very tired and can’t eat anything. The only things Akira has seen him take while sick are Narukami-san’s potions and crackers. But instead of giving him medicine, like Narukami-san does to him when he’s sick, he gives Arisato-san potions.

“Why can’t Arisato-san take normal medicine?” he asks quietly, not even realizing that he’s said it out-loud until he feels Narukami-san stiffen next to him. Akira’s stomach drops hard. Suddenly, the playful feeling disappears and the kitchen grows serious.

He glances over at Narukami-san and flushes when he sees his mentor staring at him. One of his hands reaches up to his hair and gives it a painful tug, a nervous tick he’s always had. He suddenly can’t seem to speak and he shifts nervously on his stool. He shouldn’t have said anything! Why did he have to go and open his big, stupid mouth?

Thankfully, Narukami-san can apparently see how uncomfortable he’s becoming and is quick to wrap an arm around Akira’s shoulder. He pulls him in close, careful not to upset his balance on his stool. “It’s alright, Akira-kun,” he says, his voice soft. “I’m not mad.”

With what feels like the biggest sigh, Akira sinks gratefully into his mentor’s side, relief washing over him. Narukami-san and Arisato-san never lie to him so if he says that he’s not mad, then he’s not. “You’re not in trouble,” Narukami-san continues to say. “You can ask Minato and I anything and I promise we’ll always try to answer the best we can.”

Akira hums, feeling a little silly now. He keeps forgetting that Narukami-san and Arisato-san are both so different from his parents. He leans further into Narukami-san’s side. “I just… why does Arisato-san get sick so often?” he asks, risking a look up at his mentor and relaxing further when Narukami-san gives him an encouraging smile. “And why can he only take your potions to get better? You said that magick can only do so much and that normal medicine is always best if you’re really sick.”

Narukami-san looks away from him, staring at the still steaming potion. Akira doesn’t feel nervous about his mentor’s silence this time, though, because now he knows that he's not in trouble. Narukami-san still has his arm wrapped around Akira’s shoulders and hasn’t pushed him away so Akira stays quiet, raising a hand to cling to Narukami-san’s apron gently. Finally, after a few minutes of quiet, Narukami-san speaks.

“Let me strain the potion and then we’ll join Minato at the couch,” he says. “He’ll probably want to help me explain it all to you.” He’s still smiling and doesn’t look too upset so Akira nods, hesitantly smiling back up at him.

* * *

 Akira can feel his jaw starting to ache. His teeth have been grinding together for the last hour and it’s starting to give him a headache. His hands are covered in white sugar and he’s had to scrap his last seven attempts, wasting two whole cans of meringue powder. He’s almost positive he’s pounded in a permanent indent into the Leblanc’s wooden countertops with his forehead and he knows Sojiro is going to kill him if he sees the mess Akira has made in his kitchen, but it’s all worth it.

Feeling stupidly proud of himself, Akira glances down at the two finished sugar skulls resting on the counter and sighs. It’s only taken a few hours and the temporary loss of his sanity, but they’re finally done. Morgana, who’d been banished from the kitchen after he’d messed up Attempted Skulls #3 and #4, eyes the sugar skulls from the barstool with a pout on his face. Akira didn’t even know cats could pout.

“I still don’t understand why making these were so important,” he says. He jumps up onto the counter and Akira tenses as he lands too close to the skulls for comfort. Morgana rolls his eyes at him. “Or why you had to make them at all in the first place. Why couldn’t you just buy a few online?”

_'_ _Because if I bought them online, they’d be filled with other people’s energy and not mine,’_ Akira thinks but he decides to keep that little bit of information to himself. He rolls his shoulders back and hums happily when his spine pops and heads to the sink. The dried sugar and meringue are causing his hands to itch and the sooner he gets it off, the better.

“My neighbor taught me how to make them back when I was a kid,” he says with a shrug, running his hands under the warm water. Slowly but surely, the sugar and meringue start to flake away. “And I felt like giving them a try on my own. They were always pretty good.”

Morgana makes a noise that clearly says he’s not impressed. “Aren’t you supposed to decorate them or something?” he asks and Akira shrugs again, not bothering to dry his hands and instead runs them wet through his hair. Sure enough, there’s sugar in there too.

“You don’t really have to but they look nicer if you do,” he says, wincing when his fingers hit a snag. Damn meringue. “But since I don’t plan on doing anything other than eating them, I like to keep them pretty blank. No real decorations needed.”

_‘Plus the frosting with make the potion’s color look pretty unnatural and I don’t need Akechi wondering why his drink looks like sewage water,’_ he thinks but again, he keeps that bit to himself.

“Anyway, even if I wanted to decorate them, they have to dry for another six hours so there’s nothing I can with them now,” he adds and he can tell Morgana’s losing interest. Good.

The cat stretches, a happy rumble escaping him, before he shakes his head. “Whatever, it’s your time wasted. Not mine.”

Akira chuckles, giving his hair one last run through with his fingers. “Your support is appreciated,” he deadpans. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and winces at the time. He hadn’t realized it was so late. He’s got an unread text from Makoto that’s three hours old and he feels his heart skip a beat. He forces himself to put his phone down, however, and does his best to ignore it. Morgana was still here, after all.

“Are you ready to head to Futaba’s?” he asks as he grabs a washrag and starts scrubbing his hands. Even with hot water and soap, a little bit of meringue is clinging to him with all its might. “It’s a little late, do you want me to walk you there?”

He chuckles at the glare Morgana sends his way. “I’m not an actual cat, you know. I’m not going to get lost walking down the street,” the cat says, the barest hint of a hiss in his words and Akira folds his arms over his chest in a wordless apology. Morgana huffs and jumps down onto the floor, nose high in the air. “Just open the door for me, will you? The farther I am from the mess you made, the better.”

Akira shakes his head fondly at the cat and hangs the washrag over his shoulder as he makes his way out of the kitchen.

“Just try and make sure she eats something other than curry and meal bars,” he says, opening the cafe door. “And make sure she and Yusuke don’t kill each other. The last thing we need is two dead teammates.”

Morgana snorts and gives Akira’s legs a fond rub with his head. He looks up to give Akira a fang-filled smile and his ears twitch back and forth. “Can’t make any promises but I’ll try,” he says and then he’s gone, the white tip of his tail disappearing into the darkness.

The moment the cafe door shuts, Akira is making a beeline to his phone. His hip clips the counter, causing the sugar skulls to wobble ever so slightly, and he ignores the sharp pain as he opens up his texts. And there. There it is. A series of numbers shouldn’t cause his heart to beat out a tap dance in his chest but it does. Below the numbers, there’s a short message from Makoto.

**_Received: It wasn’t too difficult to get, I’d completely forgotten I had it in the first place. Now, are you going to tell me why you wanted it?_ **

Akira raises a hand to tug at his hair, a habit he’s always meaning to work on because it’s such an obvious tell, and types out his painfully weak excuse.

**_Sent: Keep your friends close and keep your enemies closer, right? And who knows if we’ll ever need to contact him on short notice. Thanks!_ **

Not wanting to watch her nitpick his answer apart in real time, he quickly slips his phone back into his pocket. He then takes a tiny moment just to breathe, his hands resting on the Leblanc counter.

All of the pieces are now in his hands and he can’t help but bite his lip in excitement. The sugar skulls were the most difficult things to acquire, that’s for damn sure, but the other ingredients are sitting up in his room just waiting for him and he’s got Narukami-san's cookbook at the ready if he forgets any steps. He couldn’t be more prepared and, more importantly, he finally has the time.

Now that Futaba is awake and free from her self-imposed prison, everyone's too busy with integrating her back into society to demand any real attention from him. The beach trip had done wonders for her, but she’s still got a ways to go. It was almost ridiculously easy, weaving his story of needing to focus on his studying to the rest of the group. Thankfully, they all were apparently more than happy to give him a bit of a break from his role as their leader. It didn't hurt that Makoto made for one hell of a co-captain. The moment he’d mentioned studying, Makoto had insisted on taking over his Futaba duty, going on a fifteen rant on how important school is and how his test scores reflect more than just his academic skills.

The fact that he’s lying to them, knowing that if he tells them the truth they’d try to talk him out of it, stings a bit. But this is how it has to be.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he glances back over to the Leblanc kitchen and grimaces. Grand master plan aside, he really should clean that up. But first…

It’s well past eleven at night on a Sunday. There’s no possible way he’s going to get a reply tonight. But still… Akira can’t help but pull his phone back out of his pocket, nerves building in his chest. Everything, every moment, every practice potion, every path telling him that it was hopeless…

It’s all come down to this. Opening up his text messages, he taps out with shaking fingers a simple message. A message he’s repeated to himself over and over again, just to make sure that it sounded relatively normal. He stands alone in Leblanc, the only sounds coming from his own breathing and the slow night life outside the cafe. He swallows harshly and has to laugh at himself. So nervous over a single text.

Before he can talk himself out of it, he gives the “send” button a quick tap and then shuts his phone off completely. He knows that he’ll be tossing and turning all night wondering if he’s been answered but for now, he forces himself to focus on the mess he’s made in the kitchen. Pulling his washrag off his shoulders, he lets go of one last breathe before he gets to work.

**_Sent: Hey Akechi, it’s Akira. Makoto gave me your number. Hope you don’t mind. But I could use your help with a little project of mine. Let me know if you can come over to Leblanc sometime soon. Thanks._**

* * *

The mug of hot chocolate Narukami-san gave him feels wonderfully warm against his hands and Akira lets out a pleased hum as he takes a long sip. Next to him on the couch, Narukami-san has his own cup of hot chocolate while over on the separate loveseat, Arisato-san is still lying down with his blanket wrapped firmly around him. His potion is cooling down on the floor next to him.

Arisato-san is looking a little better, even though he’s only taken a small sip of his potion, and he tells his mentor so. Arisato-san smiles weakly. The dark bags under his eyes are still as heavy as ever. “Thank you, Akira-kun,” he says and his voice still sounds really rough. “Now, Yu says that you have a few questions for us?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is always very much appreciated! Thank you!


	5. Nostalgia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys giving kudos are amazing. The people giving me comments? You're the absolute best. To everyone's who even given this story a single pass through, you're awesome. Thank you everyone! So, some bad news. Due to work starting to get very busy, I'm going to have to move my updates to only every Sunday. So no more chapters on Thursday but Sunday updates are still up and going! Now, onto the next chapter. Please enjoy and remember, comments and constructive criticism are extremely welcomed!

Akira doesn’t have a babysitter anymore. He’s not too upset over losing her because now instead of her, he has Narukami-san and Arisato-san and he likes it much better this way. Now, instead of walking home all by himself, Arisato-san picks him up from school and they walk home together. Instead of opening the front door to a silent house or to a babysitter who has absolutely no interest in him, he and Arisato-san are welcomed home by Narukami-san’s bright smile and a plate of whatever he’s been baking that morning. And instead of making himself toast or having whatever pre-made meal his babysitter’s cooked up for him, he gets to help Narukami-san make dinner with Arisato-san giving helpful commentary from the kitchen table.

That’s one of his most favorite parts of the night; when Narukami-san sits him down at the table, his giant cookbook in hand, and they decide on what to make.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Narukami-san says as he opens up his cookbook. “What are we in the mood for tonight?”

Akira’s all but wiggling in his seat and Arisato-san chuckles, reaching out to pat him on the head. “Easy there,” he says. “You’re gonna fall out of your chair.”

Akira grins at him but obediently listens to his mentor, lowering his excited wiggles until all that’s moving are his legs underneath the table. Arisato-san gives him a nod and then the two of them return their attention to the house’s chef. Narukami-san’s flipping through the hundreds of pages in the binder, a thoughtful look on his face as he turns page after page of handwritten recipes.

Narukami-san’s cookbook is the biggest cookbook Akira has ever seen. It’s all white with no real decorations on it, but it has so many recipes that his mentors have collected over time that he still thinks that it’s amazing. It has a lot of notes in it too; notes about herbs and spices and other magickal things. Akira’s not really suppose to get it out himself, he’s never told not to but he can see how important it, but Narukami-san never chastises him for touching or looking through it. He never tell his mentors this, but sometimes when he’s touching the hundreds of pages, they feel warm and fuzzy. It’s a very nice feeling.

“I think we should have onigiri for dinner!” he says, pointing to the full page dedicated to the triangular rice balls as his mentor flips another page. He loves Narukami-san’s onigiri, they’re always filled with delicious salmon and pickled plums. “Please? We should have them for breakfast too.”

Narukami-san winces while Arisato-san laughs again. “Ah… how about we chose something else, Akira-san,” he says and, for a moment, Akira’s worried that he’s said something wrong. Narukami-san gives him a smile. “Let’s save them for your lunches, okay? We don’t want you to get sick of them.”

Oh! Akira smiles again and nods, though he’s positive that he’ll never get tired of Narukami-san’s onigiri. Arisato-san snorts and then takes a look at the cookbook himself, a thoughtful hum escaping him. “...What about chicken tikka masala?” he asks and Akira perks up. That’s a dish he’s never heard of before. "That's always tasty and it's pretty chilly outside. Something warm and filling could be good."

Narukami-san must notice his confusion. “It’s a dish that my grandmother taught me,” he explains. He turns a few pages of the binder and then points to a picture safely tucked into the plastic coverings that are over the pages. The dish looks like some sort of creamy red chicken over rice. “It’s one of the most popular dishes from where she comes from and it’s very good.”

Akira feels his mouth watering slightly the more he stares at the picture. It looks… really, really good. Kind of like curry, only better. When he finally looks up from the cookbook, both Narukami-san and Arisato-san are smiling at him. “Would you like to help me make it?” Narukami-san asks and Akira smiles back at them.

“Yes, please!”

* * *

 It begins right after they bring Yusuke into the Phantom Thieves. One look at the skinny, obviously starving artist and Akira knows he simply can’t let that stand. He can practically hear Narukami-san’s voice in his head, ranting and raving about unhealthy eating habits and how important it is to maintain a healthy diet. He can also imagine Arisato-san chuckling at Narukami-san’s crazy mother hen ranting, but that’s besides the point.

At first, he does his best the keep Yusuke fed with convenient store snacks. It’s been far too long since he’s been in front of a stove and he doesn’t even know if Sojiro will let him into Leblanc’s kitchen. But then he starts noticing that Ann has absolutely no control over her sweet-tooth and Ryuji’s a bit _too_ lean for his personal comfort. Even Morgana’s notices how hungry their ragtag group always seems to be, and Akira just can’t let that go! He was taught better than that.

It’s that frustration, that worry that builds in his chest each time he hears Yusuke’s stomach growl or sees Ryuji stare at the ramen shop with hungry eyes or even when he watches Ann buy a sugar-filled crepe instead of _actual food_ , that leads him to his box of belongings up in the Leblanc attic one warm night.

“What are you looking for?” Morgana asks from the table, staring down at him as he rummages through the giant box. He’d curled himself up into a little fuzzy ball half an hour ago and hasn’t moved since. Instead of answering him right away, Akira focuses instead on scooting the box out of its space as carefully as he can before prying the flaps open.

It’s Sunday so he’s got nothing on his schedule and he’s already asked Sojiro if it was alright if he messes around in the kitchen for a bit. And wasn’t that a surprise, that the man was giving him entrance into Leblanc’s very heart. He’s even already gone out and grabs a few ingredients that he’s got a feeling he’ll need. All he has to do now is find the blessed thing! Akira lets out a soft sigh and glances over at the cat.

“I’m sick and tired of watching Yusuke starve himself,” he says bluntly. He pushes to the side of the box a few pairs of spare jackets as he continues to search. “And Ryuji and Ann could do with some actual, not-ramen or chocolate food every once and awhile.”

Morgana smirks and his tail flicks back and forth in the air. “Yeah, but what are you going to do about it?” he asks. “You can only make curry and that’s all thanks to Boss. They’re gonna get sick of curry after awhile, you know.”

This time, it’s Akira’s turn to smirk and he even lets out a triumphant noise when his fingers finally find their target. “Shows how much you know,” he says as he pulls out the huge, three-ringed binder from the box. He sends Morgana a cheeky grin. “For your information, I can cook a lot more than just curry.”

Akira never thought that a cat could look so sarcastic but Morgana proves him oh so wrong as he gives Akira a blank stare. “Really,” he says and Akira can’t help but laugh.

“Trust me,” he says as he pulls the binder into his lap and flips it open. “We’re never going to hear Yusuke’s stomach rumble ever again.”

He goes a bit quiet, however, his cockiness disappearing, as he smooths his fingers over the pages of his mentor’s old cookbook. The familiar recipes in familiar hand writing makes his stomach twist uncomfortably even as his smirk slowly morphs into a warm smile. Ignoring Morgana’s questioning stare, he flips through the pages of the cookbook with careful hands and makes note of the recipes he remembers helping Narukami-san make. He wonders idly, as the pages grow warm underneath his hands, if Narukami-san has second copies of all of the recipes. If he regrets giving Akira his sacred binder. He wonders to himself, as he pauses on the page dedicated only to onigiri, if they miss him at all.

“That is one massive cookbook,” Morgana exclaims, breaking Akira from his melancholy thoughts. He gives his head a quick shake and glances over to the cat, who’s staring the salmon onigiri with a hungry gleam in his eyes. “Where’d you get it?”

Akira swallows down the lump that’d been growing in his throat and he forces himself to sound somewhat normal when he says, “My neighbors at my old town were super into cooking. They taught me a few things before they left.”

He flips another page in an attempt to cheer himself up, there’s no point wondering where they are now, but instead his heart stutters in his chest when his eyes land on the next page. Both pages are filled to the brim with potion notes.

All in his old mentor’s handwriting, his eyes skim over notes telling him which herbs are best for which potions and how long to steep each tea. It hurts slightly, he won’t lie to himself, to see the visible care Narukami-san put into his work but he pushes the hurt away. Yes, any reminders of his mentors hurt and Akira knows that it’ll probably continue to hurt even after all this time. But he can ignore that for now because right now? His teammates need him. And some of these potions might be extremely useful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and constructive criticism are both very much welcomed! Thank you!


	6. Sugar and vanilla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys... just... you're all amazing. Seriously, I'm just so stupidly thankful. And hey, good news! With updates now only Sunday, you guys get longer chapters! But again, I'm so ridiculously thankful for every kudos, comment, hit, anything. You all are awesome. So please, enjoy the chapter! And as always, Constructive criticism and comments are extremely welcomed.

The bubbling water is very intimidating and Akira swallows nervously as a splash of water jumps over the lip of the pot, sizzling as it hit the stove’s burner. Behind him, he can hear Narukami-san chuckle before he joins Akira at the stove.

“It looks like it’s boiling a little too much,” he says and he gestures to the burner’s dial. “It might be a good idea to turn it down just a little bit.”

Akira nods and turns the dial down, letting out a relieved sigh when the water simmers down and stops looking so evil. Narukami-san chuckles again but Akira knows that he’s not laughing at him. The first few times he’d caught either Narukami-san or Arisato-san laughing around him, he’d been worried that he had been doing something wrong. It was only when he’d teared up against his will after Arisato-san had laughed as Akira was helping Narukami-san make pancakes that they’d quickly reassured him that they weren’t making fun of him; he was just reminding them of themselves when they were younger and they thought he was cute.

Akira didn’t know what to think about them thinking he was cute but it was better than them making fun of him, so he thinks that he’s okay with it.

Shaking his head slightly to return to the present, he glances over his shoulder to meet Narukami-san’s eyes. “Time for the herbs?” he asks and Narukami-san nods.

“Yep. Can you remember which ones?” he asks, pulling the cutting board and knife closer to the stove. Neither Narukami-san or Arisato-san want Akira to be using knives just yet so his job is to point to which ingredients he wants and let the adults handle the chopping. He has to agree after seeing all of those scars on Narukami-san’s hands. Knives can be dangerous.

“Umm…” Akira looks over at the various ingredients that Narukami-san has pulled out with a tiny frown. This is his first potion he’s making without Narukami-san’s direct input so he refuses to take any hints. He wants to do it by himself. Or as by himself as he can without touching the knives. And seeing as this is not only his first potion but also the most important potion of his life, it has to be perfect.

He’s watched Narukami-san make this potion dozens of times so he only has a brief moment of hesitation before he starts handing out the orders.

“Ginger,” he says, pointing at the weirdly shaped, tan root and feels a rush of pride when Narukami-san nods approvingly. “And… uhh… peppermint!”

Narukami-san pulls both the ginger root and the mint scented leaves onto the cutting board, giving the peppermint a quick chop that fills the kitchen with the sharp smell. It tickles Akira’s nose and he has to hold in his sneeze. As Narukami-san peels away the ginger root’s rough skin, he looks Akira’s way and asks, “Is that all, Akira-kun?”

Akira opens his mouth to say yes, because those are the most important ingredients, but stops himself short. It takes him a minute but Akira is still fairly confident when he adds, “And lemon!”

“Exactly,” Narukami-san says, reaching for the lemon sitting squarely in the middle of the other test ingredients. “Because…”

“It helps smooth out the spiciness of the ginger root and promotes love and purification,” Akira says, reciting word for word the notes left in Narukami-san giant cookbook and he practically preens when Narukami-san reaches over from his chopping to ruffle his hair again.

“Very nice, Akira-kun!” Narukami-san praises, looking so proud of him that Akira nearly wiggles in place. “Your memory is amazing. You’re going to be a natural with potions, I can guarantee that.”

“I like potions,” Akira says with a small smile as he watches Narukami-san finish up the potion’s ingredients. “They taste a lot better than regular medicine and they’re fun to make.”

Narukami-san snorts as he pushes the cutting board and the ready ingredients towards Akira and the still simmering water. “That is true,” he says, walking over to the sink to rinse the knife off. “But remember, Akira-kun; regular medicine is still important, even with magick. If you’re really hurt or in pain, you need to go to a doctor. Magick can only do so much. You and I are not like Minato.”

“Yes, Narukami-san,” Akira says, carefully taking a handful of the chopped up peppermint and sprinkling it into the water before adding the slivers of ginger root, taking a moment to breath it it’s spicy scent. He then quickly turns the burner down to it’s low setting. “And now we wait for five minutes, right?”

Narukami-san joins him again at the stove, his special spoon in hand, and he nods. “That’s right,” he says, handing the spoon to Akira. “And while we let the herbs steep, we’re going to stir clockwise very gently. Remember, this is meant to heal so we need to fill it with our intent.”

Akira takes the spoon and very carefully, his tongue peeking ever so slightly from in between his lips, he begins to stir. “O-Okay,” he says, even though he doesn’t really understand what it means to put intent into something. Or what the word “intent” means. As if reading his thoughts, Narukami-san rests his hand back on his shoulder.

“Just think really hard about what you want the potion to be,” he explains as Akira continues to stir. “Imagine it glowing a soft white light and believe that it will make who ever takes it feel better. That’s all that magick is, deep down. If you wish it, so it will be.”

Akira takes in a nervous breath and tried his best to do as he’s told. He imagines the water sparkling with every stir, just like the potions did on T.V. He tries to imagine that white light, tries to picture stirring that light into the potion itself. He imagines giving it to Arisato-san and him saying that it was perfect, that he was feeling better already. That image causes a warm, fuzzy feeling to build up in Akira’s chest and he can’t help but giggle as that fuzzy feeling moves from his chest down his arm and out through his hand holding the spoon. He’s so focused on that warm, fuzzy feeling that he starts with a small sound when he feels Narukami-san’s hand move from his shoulder.

“Akira-kun?”

Akira opens his eyes, face going warm with embarrassment. He didn’t realized that he’d closed his eyes while stirring. He immediately looks up at Narukami-san, worry twisting at his stomach. Had he ruined the potion? But instead of looking mad, Narukami-san has a look on his face that Akira can’t place. But the look includes a smile so it must be okay.

Narukami-san then looks away to the potion, Akira joining him and he feels a wave of relief when he sees that it looks exactly like how Narukami-san makes it. “Very good, Akira-kun,” Narukami-san says softly. “Minato is going to love it.”

* * *

Akira gives Akechi a small smile and does his best to avoid cutting himself as he picks up the knife. It fumbles a bit in his hand before he manages to get a proper hold on it and he winces slightly as he imagines Narukami-san’s horrified expression from his knife handling.

“Thanks again for coming over,” he says, slicing the sugar skull into three even pieces. He’s made sure to angle himself just so in order to see Akechi and to hide his ingredients. “Since Sojiro’s given me more creative freedom in the kitchen, I’ve been needing an honest taste tester.”

Outside, the last remaining bits of sunlight are quickly fading from the sky as night starts to take over. Akira tries not to feel too guilty over flipping the closed sign a bit earlier than usual, all but forcing both Sojiro and Morgana out of the cafe with the painfully weak excuse of them spending more time with an awake and somewhat more stable Futaba. Judging by the sly look Sojiro had given him as he was walking out the door, Akira strongly suspects that the man thinks he’s having a girl over or something.

The look Morgana had given him however… Akira has a feeling that he’ll have some explaining to do tomorrow with the cat. Things are still a bit tense after the team's almost break-up so he knows he's pushing his luck a bit. Still, even with Haru's new place on their team and Okumura's Palace on all of their minds, Akira refuses to cancel his plans. Not when he's so close to the finish line. Okumura can wait another day. Right now, Akira has someone much more important to take care of.

“Is that why you texted me?” Akechi asks, taking another sip of his coffee from the cafe’s bar. “I was wondering about your little experiment. Though I can’t imagine your friends being unwilling to test out your culinary creations. Why not ask one of them?”

Akira snorts and it’s not even faked. As he adds the pieces of sugar skull to the pot, he sees Akechi raise an eyebrow. He waves him off with his free hand and gives the pot three quick clockwise stirs for good measure.

“Don’t get me wrong, Ryuji and Yusuke would jump at the chance for free food,” he says and he eyes the saucepan for any bubbles. If it starts to boil, he’ll have to start all over again and won’t that be a bitch to explain. “And I doubt the rest of them would say no if I asked, but I need honest opinions.”

He rips his eyes from the pot for a split second, a risk he’s more than willing to take, to give Akechi a smile. He has to keep his mask up, he can’t afford any slip-ups. Not when he’s so close to finding out the truth. From within his heart, Arsene shudders happily at such an exciting gamble.

“The others would be too worried over hurting my feelings to be honest. But I don’t think I have to worry about that with you, do I?”

He’s treated with what he suspects is the rare sight of a surprised Akechi but the young detective is quick to recover, chuckling behind a gloved hand. “I promise to judge with brutal honesty,” he says and Akira turns back to the stove to hide his sigh of relief.

“Guess I’ll just have to do my best to impress,” he says. Inside the pot, the potion simmers a pale pear color with tiny speckles of vanilla caviar. It smells extremely sweet and inviting. Trying to ignore the feel of Akechi’s eyes on his back, Akira taps the lip of the pot twice with his spoon and swallows hard. Within him, a voice from his childhood whispers into his ear.

_“Just think really hard about what you want the potion to be. That’s all that magick is, deep down. If you wish it, so it will be.”_

_‘Please,’_ he thinks, giving the potion one last clockwise stir. _‘Please. If I’m right about this, please help him. Help him heal, help him fight against whatever’s poisoning him. Please.’_

He places his spoon down on the counter. He can see that his hands are shaking. “Alright. I decided to go for a sweeter flavor for this first one,” he says, flicking his hands out a few times to stop the shaking. Turning the stove off, he pours the potion from the saucepan into the waiting coffee cup all prepped and ready to go. “I think vanilla and sugar are a tried and true mix so tell me what you think.”

Setting the saucepan aside, he gives the sigil for health on the bottom of the cup a quick tap before he finally slides the cup Akechi’s way. He can’t help but notice how pretty the vanilla speckled liquid looks in the coffee cup, almost as if it were made for it. He tries not to watch Akechi like a hawk as the detective stays true to his profession and inspects the offered beverage. He obviously doesn’t succeed as Akechi meets his eyes with a smirk of his own.

“Well,” he says, clearly enjoying watching Akira squirm. “It certainly looks drinkable.”

Akira forces out a laugh, tugging at his hair a bit too hard. He winces at his own lack of cool and only blushes slightly when Akechi laughs at him. Where was Joker’s suave and unshakable attitude when you needed it? He hears Arsene cluck at him for his obviousness and he blushes harder.

“Looks like I’m already halfway to a decent drink,” he says and even to him his tone is overly false and cheery. Arisato-san would be ashamed. Or make fun of him, it’s a fifty-fifty split on that one.

Thankfully, Akechi seems to think that his nerves over his drink is the reason for his tone and he goes back to inspecting it. Akira watches as the detective swirls his cup once, twice, apparently fascinated by its color. He hovers the cup below his nose, closing his eyes and inhaling. He frowns and Akira abandons all pretense of pretending to be calm. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the counter, and watches as Akechi glare softly down at the potion.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, not even bothering to hide his worry and curiosity. “Does it smell too sweet?”

A moment passes before Akechi slowly shakes his head, still glaring down at his cup. “No,” he says and Akira’s heart skips a beat at the dreamy, far-away tone in his voice. “It’s just… it doesn’t smell bad, I just… feel like I shouldn’t drink it.”

_“Hex breaker potions always follow the same set of guidelines. To anyone not under the influences of negative energy, it’ll look, taste, and smell just like the ingredients added to it. But to someone suffering from ill intent, they’ll be hesitant to drink. Whatever malicious energy that’s wrapped around them won’t want them anywhere near it.”_

Akira swallows hard and leans forward even further. “Do you not want to try it anymore?” he asks, doing his best to keep his voice level, and Akechi shakes his head again.

“No, no I do,” he says, sounding as if he’s woken up from a dream. He lets out a short bark of a laugh and ducks his head down. Akira can tell he’s trying to pull himself back together. “Well that certainly was strange. Ignore that odd little episode please, I think I’ve just had a long day.”

Akira lets out a forced chuckle of his own, more than willing to give Akechi an out. “Well you are a high school student and a detective,” he says. As if in pity, Arsene begins to bleed into his mind and the knots in his stomach are somewhat soothed by the suave persona’s influence.

Akechi sighs and finally looks back up at him. The bags under his eyes are as pronounced as ever and Akira’s heart lurches uncomfortably in his chest. He wonders, in a strange fleeing way, if this is how Narukami-san felt Arisato-san was sick.

“My apologies,” the detective says and he raises the cup back up. “As I said, let’s just ignore that little episode. I’m sure this is delicious, Akira-kun.”

“It’s alright,” he says, the urge to tug at his hair much more manageable with Arsene’s help. He sends his persona a quick thank you and feels a scoff directed right at him. _‘Jerk,’_ he thinks fondly and Arsene laughs. “Just remember to be honest. Sojiro would kill me if anything inedible left this kitchen.”

Akechi chuckles and finally, _finally_ , takes a large sip of the potion. “Heaven forbid,” he says and he hums softly as he takes another sip. “...Interesting.”

The only thing keeping Akira from clawing at the bar with nerves is Arsene’s soothing presence. Still, he has to clamp down the urge to fidget as he watches the detective drink. “What’s interesting?” he asks and again, it’s only due to Arsene that he voice doesn’t crack.

Akechi hums again, this time letting the potion rest on his tongue. There’s a perplexed expression on his face and he slowly closes his eyes. “The flavor,” he says after a long moment and Akira makes a soft sound for him to continue. “I’ve had vanilla based beverages in the past but this tastes… different, somehow.”

“Huh,” Akira says elegantly but he ignores his own lack of subtlety. Because nothing’s happening.

Akechi’s drinking the hex breaker potion and nothing’s happening. It’s so painfully obvious that there’s some outside force poisoning the man, something should be happening. Maybe… maybe he brewed it wrong? Because Akechi is still just sipping away at the potion like it’s nothing but a sugary drink, eyes still shut like it’s not affecting him at all! The potion should be driving that poison out of him! But nothing's _happening_!

 _'But I followed every one of Narukami-san’s directions,’_ he thinks frantically to himself, turning back to the kitchen. On one of the counters, Narukami-san’s cookbook sits open on the appropriate page. _‘And every ingredient was right. What did I do wrong?!’_

Akira takes two steps into the kitchen, hands already outstretched for the binder, when the sound of porcelain shattering against the floor jerks him to a halt. A single beat of silence. Inside, Arsene trembles.

Then Akechi starts to scream.

* * *

The ready potion, steaming and warming Akira's hands through the mug, smells wonderfully spicy. He can't help but take a deep breath of the steam, letting the ginger and the peppermint tickle at the back of his throat. It smells just like it does when Narukami-san makes it so it must be just as good. Still, despite Narukami-san himself telling him that the tea was perfect, he's nervous.

Swallowing hard, Akira walks quietly into the living room and towards the lump of blankets resting on the couch. He shuffles over to the couch, making extra sure of his footing so that he doesn't spill the potion, until he sees the blue hair sticking out of the blankets.

Akira hesitates, looking back into the kitchen where Narukami-san is watching from the kitchen’s entrance. Narukami-san gives him an encouraging nod and a little wavy hand motion, urging him on. "He'll love it, Akira-kun," he says again quietly, obviously not wanting to disturb Arisato-san.

Curling his toes into the carpet, Akira turns back to the couch and nearly leaps out of his skin, the potion sloshing dangerously close to the lip of the mug, when he sees Arisato-san's blue eyes peaking out from the blankets. He’s not suffering from his special illness, the one that Akira still doesn’t fully understand. This is simply a cold that he’d caught from Akira, who’d been nearly beside himself when he’d realized what he’d done. Slightly embarrassed over being caught, Akira carefully holds out the mug.

"...I made you tea," he mumbles, half tempted to take the mug back because he knows won't be as good as Narukami-san's but it's too late now; Arisato-san is already wiggling out of his blanket cocoon and taking the tea from his hands.

"Thank you, Akira-kun," Arisato-san says and Akira can't help but wince at the sound of his voice. It was usually very soft and calming, but now it was all nasally and weird sounding. "Did you make this all by yourself?"

Akira nods, clasping his now empty hands together. "Yeah," he says. "Narukami-san did the herbs but I did everything else."

Arisato-kun closes his eyes and inhales deeply from the steam, a small smile growing on his lips. "It smells perfect, though I’m probably not the best judge of that right now," he says with a laugh and Akira can't help but feel slightly sick himself when Arisato-san takes a long, deep sip of the tea.

A long moment passes, Arisato-san keeping his eyes closed as he swallows and lets out a loud sigh. Feeling inches away from throwing up, Akira shoots Narukami-san a panicked look. Instead of helping, Narukami-san simply makes that same wavy hand motion from earlier.

Akira bites at his lip and turns once again to find Arisato-san smiling at him. "I-Is it okay?" he asks, his voice sounding so tiny. "Does your throat feel any better? I made it cause I’m the one who got you sick and I’m really sorry because you already get sick a lot and I didn’t-"

Arisato-san holds up a finger, stopping Akira’s terrified babbling. He looks over Akira's shoulders towards Narukami-san for a brief moment before he wordlessly gestures for Akira to come closer. He shakily moves closer to the couch, fingers twisting painfully together and horribly unsure of where this is all going. He can feel tears starting to pool in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry, Arisato-san,” he says and even he can hear it when his voice wobbles. He looks down at the floor, too afraid to look up.

He then lets out a startled yelp when Arisato-san pokes him gently right in between the eyes.

Akira’s head shoots back up with surprise, unable to believe what has just happened. He hears Narukami-san cackling madly from the kitchen but all he can do is stare at Arisato-san with wide eyes. An adult… just poked him! In the face! Arisato-san himself simply takes another sip of his tea with a funny gleam in his eyes.

"It's perfect, Akira-kun," he says. "You need to stop worrying so much. And don’t feel bad about the cold. Yu had it as well so I was bound to get it.”

Akira blinks and then raises his hands to where Arisato-san poked him, his guilt slowly starting to fade away. Arisato-san snorts, an ugly sound thanks to the cold, and reaches out to push Akira’s hair away from his forehead.

“Now go back to Yu,” he says softly. “I don't need you getting sick _again_ from all your worrying."

A new feeling starts to grow in Akira's chest as he walks back towards the kitchen, back to Narukami-san who's finally stopped laughing. He doesn't really have a word for it, for the warm, tingly feeling threatening to overtake him. It feels a little different than before. A little more warm, almost like bubbles.

He finds, as Narukami-san pulls him in for a quick hug, that he really like it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism and comments are extremely welcomed! Thank you very much!


	7. A different perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait! Grandpa and I went birthday shopping for Grandma and then work got super crazy. It got really messy but we're back! Thank you, thank you, thank you all so much for being amazing and leaving such wonderful comments and kudos! I don't think I can tell you enough times how much I appreciate it. Updates will be normal now, every Sunday so no worries there. And as an added apology, something I think a lot of you have been waiting for. Please enjoy and remember, comments and constructive criticism is always extremely welcomed!

He’s known for a while now that they’d have to eventually tell Akira the truth. They’ve both known for a long time but, true to their baser natures, have been deliberately putting it off until now, the very last moment. Because how could they possible explain it to him? How do they explain to an eight-year old the horrible price both he and Yu’d had to pay in order for Minato to return? How do they tell him about that damned creature Yu’d so foolishly bargained with without giving the boy nightmares? How do they explain Minato’s “illness” without terrifying him?

Minato sighs as he watches Akira sip at his hot chocolate. Next to him, Yu barely even glances at his own mug. Their eyes meet briefly as the kid’s distracted with the sweet drink. Neither of them know really how to answer the questions Akira is no doubt going to ask but it looks like there’s nothing they can do about that. Akira’s a bright boy and can read the emotions in a room with a wisdom far beyond his age.

If they refuse to answer his question or try to give him bullshit answers, he’ll know. He’ll know and all of the work that they’ve put into easing the heartbreak that had been practically oozing from the kid when they’d first met him will be wasted. Both Minato and Yu promised to never lie to him and Minato’s not about to go breaking promises now.

Breaking him from his thoughts, Minato snaps back to reality when Akira says softly, “You’re looking a little better, Arisato-san. Your face doesn’t look as tired anymore.”

He gives Akira a weak smile from the loveseat, appreciating Akira’s positive attitude towards the entire situation. He shivers despite the blanket and the familiar taste of Yu’s potion is still heavy against his tongue. His drink is sitting on the floor now, cooling down a bit. He meets Yu’s eyes again and the man gives him the slightest of nods. It was time. He turns his head back to Akira.

“Thank you, Akira-kun,” he says and he has to hold back a wince. His voice still sounds horrible. But he soldiers on. “Now, Yu says that you have a few questions for us?”

Akira straightens up, his little face scrunching up with a serious expression. Minato notices out of the corner of his eye Yu taking a sip of his hot chocolate to hide his fond smile. He doesn’t even bother trying. “Y-Yes,” the boy says, his thumbs running up and down his mug. Minato can tell that he’s nervous. “I just… Narukami-san always says that magick can only do so much. That when you’re really sick or hurt, you have to take medicine or go to the doctors.”

He pauses and give Minato a questioning look. Minato nods, silently encouraging him to continue. Akira lets out a tiny sigh of relief before he continues. “A-And when Narukami-san and I are sick, we take cold medicine so that we can get better,” he says. His voice is growing slightly higher in pitch as his nerves start getting to him. It reminds him a bit of Chihiro when guys would try to talk to her. “But you never take any medicine, Arisato-san! You just take Narukami-san’s potions but then, even after you get better, you get sick again!”

Akira seems to realize that he’s growing a little loud and instantly quiets down, looking slightly ashamed of himself. He focuses on his mug of hot chocolate, allowing Minato and Yu to share another glance. “...I don’t like seeing you so sick, Arisato-san,” Akira admits softly and Minato sighs. Damn. That’s one hell of a low blow. “I just… why don’t you get better for good? Why are you always sick? What happened to you?”

And there it was, the grand question of the hour. Minato knows that Akira deserves answers. By keeping it a secret, they’ve done nothing but worry him. He wonders for a moment what it must feel like; watching Minato grow sick time after time again and seeing no improvement despite all of the potions. Akira needs to know the truth, if only for his own peace of mind, but Minato can’t help but draw a blank because what can he possibly say? Thankfully, before Akira can notice his hesitance, Yu takes a rather exaggerated sip of his hot chocolate and draws the kid’s attention to him.

“This has been bothering you for awhile now, hasn’t it,” Yu says kindly. It’s not really a question and he smiles ever so slightly when Akira ducks his head down, his face tinted pink. “And like I said in the kitchen, we’re not mad at you. We would never be mad at you for asking questions.”

Akira looks up at Yu through his fringe and Minato watches silently as Yu’s smile fades ever so slightly. “It’s just… hard to talk about sometimes, that’s all,” he says and Akira’s fingers tighten around his mug.

And really, it’s the sadness in Yu’s voice and the confused, scared expression on Akira’s face that makes Minato bite the bullet. Because those expressions on both of his boys’ faces? Those right there? They aren’t allowed in his house.

Minato blows a strand of hair from his face and slowly begins sits up, ignoring the strain in his muscles and the pointed look Yu shoots him telling him to stay down. It takes him a minute, biting back the curses that want to escape his lips, but when he’s finally upright and feeling a little less like he’s going to throw up, he lets out a long sigh. His closes his eyes for a moment, just a moment to prepare himself and to fight off the nausea, before he opens them. Both Yu and Akira are staring intently at him like he could shatter at a moment’s notice. He snorts and then pats the spot on the loveseat next to him.

“Come here, Akira-kun,” he says, something deep inside of him warming as he watches Akira hastily give Yu his mug before he scrambles off of the couch and makes a beeline towards him. He opens up his blanket to allow Akira in, the kid all but burrowing into his side, and wraps them both back up into a cozy bundle. It’s not like Akira can catch what he has anyways.

As the kid makes himself as comfortable as possible plastered to his side, Minato looks back at Yu. He’s shaking his head fondly and, when he notices Minato’s eyes on him, he’s mouths silently, “Stubborn jackass.”

It’s childish and completely inappropriate for such a serious conversation but Minato can’t help it. He sticks his tongue out before mouthing back, just as silent, “Like you’re one to talk.”

Judging by the smile trying to hide behind a grimace on Yu’s face, he knows he’s made his point. Finally, after a few more seconds, Akira stops squirming and looks up at Minato with such a worried expression that he can practically feel his heart crack. The boy’s arms are wrapped around Minato’s waist, his tiny fingers twisting themselves into his shirt. Minato folds an arm around Akira’s shoulders and takes in a deep breath.

Show time.

“Akira-kun… you remember our bedtime story, right?” he asks. “About how I fell asleep for a long time before Yu came to rescue me?”

The boy nods, perking up slightly at the mention of his favorite story. “Yeah, you said that Narukami-san woke you up with the help of his friends,” he says and then he makes a face. “And you also said that he made a lot of people mad and was really silly but that he saved you and that you guys got a happy ending. And then you met me!”

Minato nods. “That’s right,” he says, pulling Akira just a little closer. “And then we met you. But Akira-kun, being asleep for as long as I was…  it really hurt me.”

_Pain. Nothing but pain, pain, pain, as Nyx pushes against him and it feels like it’s tearing him into shreds and he wants to scream but no sound escapes and all at exists is pain, pain, pain._

Akira’s breath hitches softly and Minato can feel his grip on his shirt tightening. “It hurt you?” he whispers and Minato nods.

“Yes. It hurt me very badly,” he says and it’s only the knowledge that this needs to happen that keeps Minato talking. The sooner Akira knows the truth, the faster he can accept and get over it. “We didn’t tell you the entire situation in your story but something very bad was going to happen a few years ago. Everyone was in danger. My friends and I tried to stop it but it was too strong. We didn’t know what to do.”

_The pressure forces them all to their knees. It’s staggering, the amount of sheer presence that is all but smothering them. Minato can barely breathe from it and behind him, his friends are all gasping and smothering pained grunts. His ears pop and, distantly, he hears Aigis, beautiful Aigis._

_“I will never give up,” she says and somehow, she forces herself to stand. “Never!”_

_Oh, but then that voice… that voice that mocks and pities them in equal measures._

_“Why resist that which is inevitable? You will only suffer.”_

He swallows and doesn’t dare risk a glance at Yu. He’s already far too familiar with his heartbroken expression. He doesn’t need a refresher right now. “Then we found out that the bad thing had to come through a door to enter our world and that, if we could somehow lock the door, we could stop it from coming through and hurting people,” he says and he doesn’t fail to notice how Akira is inching impossibly closer to him with every word.

_“It is the power to bring about a new beginning,” Igor says with a smile. “Or the ultimate end. It may be possible now with this newfound power…”_

_He pauses. Beside him, Elizabeth watches it all with a blank expression, a bland smile on her face. Minato knows her well enough now to see the heartbreak behind her eyes. Igor’s eyes, however, sparkle with pride._

_“You may be able to defeat the one who cannot be defeated.”_

“Someone… the only thing that could lock the door was a soul. And I knew that it had to be me because I was the strongest, I was the one who had held onto it for so long. If anyone had the strength to hold Nyx back, it was me.”

_As he stares up at Death itself, he can hear them all rally behind him. Attack after attack, he forces himself to stay on his feet as he listens to the voices of those most dear to him. He glares defiantly into Death’s gaze and remembers those who will die if he doesn’t win and the ones who he has already lost._

_His friends, his family. The lonely boy who is waiting for him within his dreams. Deep inside, a voice he thought he would never hear again grants him the last push he needs._

_“...Alright. Let’s do this!”_

“N-Nyx?” Akira asks and Minato nods.

“That was the name of the really bad thing,” he explains. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Yu stand and walk over to them, joining the two of them on the loveseat. It makes for a bit of a tight squeeze, Yu is all legs after all, but they manage. “And so, I gave up my soul to become the lock on the door, keeping Nyx out. And then I fell asleep.”

_He’s so tired. It’s so peaceful here on the rooftop, his head pillowed in Aigis’s lap as the cherry blossoms fall all around them. The sunshine feels so nice against his skin. It makes him even sleepier. He wants to close his eyes for a minute, just a minute to give them a rest, but Aigis is talking. He forces himself to look up at her. There are tears in her eyes._

_“Don’t cry,” he says softly. She smiles and tries to wipe them away._

_“You’re right,” she says, her voice so happy for the first time._

_He wants to offer her more comfort, wants to tell her how proud he is of her. He couldn’t have done any of this without her. She’s still talking but… he’s so tired. The wind and the sun are lulling him down further. He’s so sleepy…_

_He closes his eyes. He wonders if Yu-kun will remember him after he’s gone. He wonders... and falls into nothingness._

He goes quiet, giving Akira a few moments to absorb what he was being told. Yu clears his throat softly and Minato looks up to see him smiling sadly. He nods and then raises his hand to place it over Akira’s back.

“Minato’s sleep was very different from the kind of sleep we have every night, Akira-kun,” Yu says carefully. Akira turns his head to stare at Yu but he remains glued to Minato’s side. “It wasn’t good. It didn’t help him feel rested or make him feel better. It did the exact opposite. The door holding Nyx back made Minato’s soul very sick and weak. And because his soul turned into the lock and because it was so weak, when I found him… he...”

Yu falters, swallowing hard at the very specific memory that’s no doubt playing in his mind. Minato reaches out the hand not wrapped around Akira through the blanket and takes Yu’s palm in a firm grasp. A wordless reminder that he’s here. He’s right here.

“My body died,” he says bluntly and he feels Akira stiffen up, most likely because “died” is a very scary word to someone still so young. “And when Yu came to rescue me, he realized that because my body had died while my soul acted as the lock, he couldn’t save me.”

_“What do you mean he’s trapped?! You promised I could bring him back! We had a deal!”_

Akira is shaking now, his eyes starting to grow shiny with tears. Minato makes a soft crooning sound and draws the boy into his lap, wincing when he starts to quietly cry. “Shh,” he murmurs, doing his best to rock him back and forth while his muscles scream in protest. “It’s alright, I’m okay now. Don’t cry.”

“He’s right,” Yu says, scooting closer to rub slow circles into Akira’s back. “Akira-kun, it’s okay. Minato’s fine now, I promise.”

Akira rubs his face into Minato’s shirt and his tiny frame shudders under both of their hands. “B-But Arisato-san said that he d-died,” he manages to stammer out and Minato hushes him gently.

“My body died but my soul was still alive,” he says and he kindly tells his muscles to fuck off when his arms start to shake from Akira’s weight. “And in the end, we had someone very powerful on our side who decided to help us.”

They wait for Akira to calm down slightly, not bothering to rush him as he continues to rub his face into Minato’s shirt. Outside, the clouds that had been looming dark and threatening in the sky had finally decided to make good on their promises; the rain was softly pitter-pattering against the windows. The sound, coupled with both Minato and Yu’s soothing words, must be helping because Akira’s shoulders start to relax slightly.

Finally, after what seems like forever, Akira mumbles into Minato’s shirt, “S-Someone powerful?”

Yu lets out a relieved sigh and gives Akira’s back a gentle pat. “That’s right,” he says. “To get to where the door was, I made a deal with two very powerful beings. One who I won’t name because he’s a jerk and he probably smells really bad.”

Not the best description for the giant bastard that was Nyarlathotep but the added silliness is worth it when Akira lets out the tiniest of giggles. “And the other?” he asks, pulling away from Minato’s chest to look over at Yu. His eyes are red and his nose is running. Minato feels his heart clench painfully tight at the sight.

Yu smiles and lifts his sleeve to wipe at Akira’s face, not seeming to care about the state of his shirt. “His name was Philemon,” he says and Minato shivers.

_His mask is expressionless and yet, as Minato’s new lungs inhale their first gulps of air and as his eyes fill with fresh tears, he can’t help but sense the smile behind that butterfly mask._

_“Welcome back,” he says and his voice is deep and soothing. His hands are warm where they’re pressed against his chest. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you properly after so long, Minato Arisato.”_

Even after all this time, the name still gets to him. Yu shoots him a look but continues for Akira. “And the deal we made was that if I could get to Minato and prove that I could save him without letting Nyx out, then he would give Minato a new body so that I could save him.”

“And that’s just what Yu did,” Minato says, giving his Yu a smile. It feels bittersweet. “He found me and made a new lock for the door with the help of our friends. Then Philemon moved my soul into the new body he’d created for me and I was alive again.”

Akira whimpers and leans against Minato, a frown growing on his face as his tiny chest hitches from his earlier tears. He’s probably getting a headache from all of this information overload. After all, for however smart he is, he’s still just a kid. “But if Narukami-san saved you, then why do you get sick all of the time?” he asks.

Minato sighs. “My soul is still very weak from keeping Nyx locked away,” he explains softly, rubbing his thumb over Yu’s hand as he spoke. “There’s a part of Nyx inside me now and we’re not sure if I’ll ever recover one hundred percent. So sometimes, my soul gets too weak and it causes my body to get very sick.”

The confused expression on Akira’s face slowly morphs into something closer to horror and Minato wishes he could wipe it right off along with his tears. He decides not to tell him about how fragile his gifted body is and how bad those first few months were before Yu perfected his potion. They’ve already terrified Akira enough for one day.

“And that why I give him potions and not medicine,” Yu says. He lifts Minato’s hand up to his lips and presses soft kisses against his fingers. Minato rolls his eyes but grows warm at the sappy gesture. “Medicine won’t help against the part of Nyx that’s still in him. Only my potions can and it doesn’t last forever. That’s why I need to keep giving them to him.”

Akira is silent, staring at the two of them before he burrows his face back into Minato’s shirt. He’s starting to shake again. Both he and Yu share helpless looks as they both curl around him the best they can. Neither of them know what he’s thinking, if he even believes them. Minato can feel his shirt growing wet again from tears and he leans down to give the top of Akira’s head a kiss.

“I’m okay, Akira-kun,” he whispers into the black locks, knowing with a growing dread that it won’t help. “I’m okay. Please don’t cry, I’m right here.”

His words seem to fall on deaf ears, however, as Akira continues to cry with growing abandon. He suddenly burrows even further into Minato’s front, nearly knocking him down with the force of it. It’s only Yu’s grip on his hand that keeps him upright and they both let out surprised grunts. He feels Akira’s nails digging into his back and winces from the tiny stings.

“I don’t want you to die ever again!” Akira cries out and he sounds just so angry and upset. “Never again! I don’t want you to leave, Arisato-san! You can’t leave us!”

He raises his head only to stare up at him and Minato’s breath catches at the terrified look on his face. “You have to promise, Arisato-san! You have to promise that you won’t die again!”

Minato’s heart shatters. He pulls his hand free from Yu’s grasp and wraps both arms around Akira’s trembling frame, holding him close. He then pushes both himself and Akira forward, gritting his teeth as his back and legs nearly give out on him. He pushes them both into Yu’s waiting arms and doesn’t stop pushing until the three of them are lying on the loveseat, Akira safely tucked in between their bodies. Akira doesn’t stop crying but he does reach out to cling to Yu’s shirt as well. The blanket falls, abandoned, onto the floor.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers and he can hear the raw conviction in his own voice.  “I promise, Akira-kun, I’m staying right here with you. I’m right here. I’m here.”

Yu wraps his arms around the both of them, squeezing them close. “We’re okay,” he says, pressing a kiss to both Minato’s forehead and Akira’s dark hair. “We’re all okay and we’re going to keep being okay. I’m sorry we’ve scared you, Akira-kun, but I promise, everything’s alright. It’s okay.”

The three of them stay there for a very long time, long enough for the sun to set and for the moon to rise. They stay there, the only sounds being Akira’s sobs, the soft croons from both himself and Yu, and the pitter-patter of the rain. Minato keeps his arms tight around Akira’s shaking frame and Yu keeps his arms around the both of them, holding them all together. He knows, without even having to ask or look up, that they’re both more than prepared to stay there all night if Akira needs it. They’re not letting go until he does.

And after awhile they finally do pull away, because it’s beginning to grow late and Akira is starting to dip into unconsciousness. Minato finishes his now cold potion all in one go, just wanting to get this day done and over with. Yu gathers Akira up into his arms, the kid’s head lolling onto his shoulder in a pure picture of exhaustion.

Minato smiles sadly and raises a hand to run it through Akira’s hair. The kid does his best to lean into his touch, tears still gathered in his eyes. “Hungry?” he asks and he’s not really surprised when Akira shakes his head silently. He wouldn’t have much of an appetite either after the night they’ve had.

“Guess I’ll just have to make pancakes for breakfast tomorrow,” Yu says and that earns them a quiet giggle. “With lots of strawberries and syrup, right?”

Akira nods and then reaches out a hand towards Minato, the other wrapped firmly around Yu’s neck. Minato chuckles and twines his fingers together with Akira’s smaller ones. “Come on, kiddo,” he says as he gives Akira’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Let’s get to bed. I think we’ve all deserved it after today.”

Akira nods again and then, after a moment of hesitation, asks very quietly, “Can I sleep with you tonight? Just for tonight? I… I want to make sure that you wake up tomorrow.”

And oh, if that doesn’t just shatter the both of them. Minato can see it crystal clear in Yu’s eyes and knows that it must be mirrored in his own. Akira deserved to know the truth and, come morning, they’ll all be better for the entire situation being out in the open. But right now, the guilt is weighing heavily on him; no child deserves to worry about things like that.

Minato does his best, however, to swallow past the lump in his throat and he nods, keeping his hold on Akira’s hand as Yu carefully leads them down the hall and towards their bedroom.

“Sure, Akira-kun,” he says. He makes sure that Akira’s eyes are on him as he speaks. “But you don’t have to worry about me. I promise, neither Yu nor myself are leaving you anytime soon.”

That finally has Akira relaxing into Yu’s arms, smiling as they all start getting ready for bed. Because even though he’s heard some scary things tonight, he knows that Yu and Minato will always keep their promises. If Minato promises not to leave, then he won’t. Minato will always keep his promises to Akira.

Until one day, he doesn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much! Comments and constructive criticism is extremely welcomed!


	8. This is not an update; rather, it's a question

Hello everyone!

First, I'm very sorry about the false update. I personally hate it when authors do that but I honestly didn't know any other way to go about this. So, here's what I've got for you: The way this fic is formatted isn't working for me anymore. Things and ideas that I have planned are becoming unusable because of the non-chronological order. Taking time for a break and really looking at the fic has made me realize that I can't keep writing it like this. It's not working. So what am I going to do about it?

Well, there are two ways I can go about fixing this. Option A is I delete the fic and start fresh. Same story (sort of) but just in the right order. This will delete all of your comments and the bookmarks and such, which is very sad to me. So to Option B. Option B is I keep the story up but replace the chapters all in one go. You would be forced to read the whole thing again but there would be very little in common between the pre and post fics and the comments and bookmarks wouldn't be lost.

I still have a story to tell, guys, and I still want to tell it to you. I just need to go about it a better way. So I'm leaving the choice up to you guys. Option A is delete the fic and start fresh, under the same name. Option B is to place the fic under construction and to let you know when it's up to date. Leave in the comments what you think is best and I'll tally up everyone's opinions and we'll go from there. Just know that if this fic sudden disappears, it was on purpose. It will return, under the same name and everything.

Again, I'm really sorry you guys that it's come to this. I feel kind of ashamed of myself. I started this project thinking that I knew what I was doing and I didn't. And I let you guys down. So I'm very sorry and I will work hard to right this wrong. Please let me know what you guys think and I'll continue working on getting this fic back on track.

I love and adore you all and again, I'm very sorry.

I can and will do better and this story will be told.

 

~martiniglass


	9. Update and a heartfelt thank you

Wow.

Just... wow! You guys, you have no idea how much your support means to me. To everyone's who's commented about saving the story, thank you so very, very much. As it turns out, Musical_Life has presented a third option that I didn't even think about and everyone who's commented seems to be in agreement with their suggestion. So!

Starting today, 1/9/2018, this version of this story is discontinued. I will, however, be leaving this story up so that none of us lose the amazing comments and bookmarks. As you can see, I've left exactly one chapter left. That's because, when the reworked version of this story is ready to go, I'll be posted the news of that reworked version here as Chapter Ten. So don't get rid of your bookmarks just yet.

Again, thank you guys so much for being so supportive. It really helps me going. And now, to address a specific question in the comments:

**To TwilightKnight17's question:** "Answering a question with a question: with either option, will these scenes that have been posted remain the same, just moved to their proper places?" Some scenes will be kept just as they are and some will be edited quite heavily, but they will just be moved to their proper places. Like I said, I'll be keeping this discontinued version up so nothing will be lost, but even if I were to delete it, nothing really would be lost work wise. :D

So yes! That's the plan. As to when the reworked version will be ready, I'm going to shoot for January 22nd, if all goes according to plan. Already, I can tell this is the proper way I need to go about this story, so I'm extremely positive about this move.

Please everyone, enjoy your morning/day/evening and I hope that you'll be ready for the reworked version when it's ready!

Thank you once again, to every single one of you, and I'll see you guys soon!


	10. It's Happening!

Hello, hello everyone! It's finally happening! May I introduce you to the new and improved, "So the Rebel wills it, so it will be"! A cleaner, polished version of this fic!

Guys, thank you for being so amazing during this whole mess. I really can't tell you how much it means to me. And I've been having so much more fun writing now that I'm back on the right track. So, to "A pinch of salt", it is time for you to sleep. I'll keep this fic up, like I said, to keep all of the wonder bookmarks, kudos, and comments, but feel free to come on over to see the new version! Updates to "So the Rebel wills it" with be weekly, every Sunday.

So! Is everyone ready? Because I am MORE than ready! Let's go!

 

~martiniglass

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism and comments are extremely welcomed! Thank you very much!


End file.
